The Mirror Cracked
by cabinet of curiosities
Summary: A crackfic twist on Tempest involving 2 Helens, 2 James, John, Nikola and the rest of the Sanctuary gang. What happens when late Victorian Helen and James accidently arrive at the Sanctuary in the 21st century? Craziness ensues of course!
1. Back to the Future

The Mirror Cracked

Chapter 1: Back to the Future

He entered the large room just in time to see the back of her disappear into the shimmering, unnatural circle. Startled, he called out her name as he raced toward the circle, which flickered away as he reached it. Panicking, he screamed her name again as he whirled around the room in the hopes that the shimmering circle would reappear. Just as despair began to grip him he saw the shimmering circle reform 10 feet away from him and raced toward it, leaping head first as the circle began to flicker away again.

Landing with a loud "oomph!" on a hard, concrete floor, he rolled head over heels to land flat on his back with a big thump. Panting, he stared up at the tall glass ceiling beyond which a full moon shone brightly in a cloudy sky. The ceiling had to be at least three stories high. "Wow," he whispered as he sat up and took in the celestial scene above, and then he quickly shook his head. This was no time for sightseeing. He had to find her before some harm befell his curious partner. Looking back at where he had entered, the discombobulated man spied his hat lying on the ground. He pushed himself up and stood, only to wince aloud in pain as he put weight on his left leg. "Damn," he muttered as he dragged himself forward.

He had bent over reaching for his hat when pounding footsteps sounded in his direction. Loud shouts followed. Straightening, he had begun to turn to look around when a familiar voice yelled, "Move, move, move!" at him. It all happened so fast that he had little time to react and, before he could completely turn around, he felt himself being struck by a hard, moving object that projected him forward like a cricket ball. His landing this time was with a sickening thud against a nearby wall, where he ended up sliding down onto the floor as his left shoulder erupted in pain.

"Man down!" an unfamiliar voice yelled as odd sounding gunfire exploded around him. Footsteps pounded around the room, their echoing in the large room confusing the lean man lying dazed by the baseboard.

A shadow fell over him as a large figure kneeled beside him. Looking up, his emerald green eyes widen with recognition. "John?"

"James?" Druitt exclaimed back in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be out on the town with your date."

Watson's response of "What?" was drowned out by loud shouts from others. "It's coming back your way!" a female voice called out as loud pounding headed toward them again. Glancing over his shoulder to see the large abnormal barreling around back towards them, John muttered "Son of a…," as he touched his hand to Watson's bent leg to teleport them right away.

They reappeared in another unfamiliar room with glass walls. "Are you hurt badly?" John asked as he helped his friend on his feet and was rewarded with a grumbled curse as James clutched at his wounded shoulder while trying not to put any weight down on his left leg. "I'll take that as a yes," John said as helped him over to lie on a bed in the examination room. "We'll have Helen take a look at you as soon as we get the Xenartha Nahautal back into its cage," Druitt promised.

"Helen!" James exclaimed. "Where is she? I was following her when I ended up here."

"She's chasing after her beastie along with the rest of her team," John answered before stopping to get a better look at Watson. "Why do you have sideburns?" he asked curiously. "Surely your bird isn't into the hurly burly look?"

"My bird?" James repeated as he stared in awe at Druitt's appearance. "And when did you grow hair and a beard?" he asked as he took in the other man's dark, sleek fitting clothing.

This time it was Druitt's turn to say "What?" just as more shouts and blasts sounded outside the glass room. "Stay here," John ordered before he teleported away to rejoin the fray.

Struggling up into a seated position, Watson swung his legs over the side and peered out of the glass wall to watch the pursuit. A large, scaled, four footed creature with its elongated snout raised in alarmed squeals stormed past the glass followed by two young men, and then a woman. All were armed and shooting an advanced type of weaponry that Watson had never seen before. Their manner of lightweight dress was also mostly foreign to the sleuth. He had only ever seen one person dressed similarly… the older Helen that had arrived back in 1899 London several years ago.

As if on cue, a black leather clad Helen ran by shouting "Stunners only! Shoot underneath the shell!"

An irate chorus of "We're trying!"answered her command.

"Bloody hell," James muttered as he cushioned his shoulder to him with his right arm. He now knew where he was though he had no idea when it was. The last time he had seen the darker version of Helen Magnus was ten years ago. She had managed to kill Adam Worth and shortly thereafter disappeared into a shimmering circle similar to the one he and the younger version of Helen had walked into tonight. "I must be Helen's Sanctuary," he thought and began to inspect the interior of the room he was in. It was sparsely furnished and he deduced he must be in some type of infirmary. He was pulled from his inspection of the fascinating bright lighting fixtures above when he heard shouting outside the room.

"Go, go, go!" a tall, thin young man with spiky hair yelled as he ran by followed by the other young man and woman, who sniped back, "We're going as fast as we can!" Behind them, a squealing roar bellowed as the creature gave chase with its flat, wedge shaped head lowered down to ram into its prey.

At the rear of the group, Helen yelled "We need to flip it over somehow!" to John who then teleported away to the far end of the room in anticipation of heading the group off. "Everyone get up against the wall and try to lure the creature into ramming at you," Druitt ordered and was answered with loud protests of "Are you crazy!" and "Have you lost your mind!"

Watson scrambled to grab at the bedding as he almost fell off the bed trying to twist his body to view what was taking place beyond the corner stone wall that blocked his view. Panting, he managed to stabilize his position just as the group rounded the corner to run back the other way. "This is insane," James grumbled as he watched as the woman and man returned to run by the glass wall, followed by the irate creature.

"I really hate my job sometimes!" the man, who was the shortest among all the men, yelled in complaint as he ran for dear life.

"No shit, Sherlock!" the female retorted with a laugh as she raced ahead of him.

At the mention of "Sherlock," James's mouth had dropped open slightly. Was she aiming her comment at him? And what exactly did it mean? None of those racing by seemed to notice him seated upon the white sheeted bed with his head whipping back and forth as he watched the racing follies going back and forth in front of him.

"Are we going to do this all night?" the spiky haired man called as he panted after the trio and tried unsuccessfully to shot the underside of the creature once more.

"Not if you would do as I suggested!" Druitt bellowed from behind and came to a stop in the middle of the glass wall to throw his hands up in the air in annoyance. Looking at James, he grumbled, "See what I have to deal with while you're not around?"

"Oh stop your belly aching," Helen called out as she ran past, and then skidded to a stop just beyond the other side of the stone wall. A second later she return to Druitt's side, open mouthed, to stare into the glass room.

"What in the world?" she asked as she took in Watson's appearance.

"Maybe they were going to a costume ball?" John mused, rolling his eyes as he heard shrieks from the other end of the hall as the group turned to head back their way. "Although if it were me I certainly would not have picked Victorian England for my costume option. It was bad enough wearing that muck the first time."

"They were going to Alfredo's for dinner. I made the reservation," Helen said, narrowing her eyes at James. "Why are you clutching your shoulder?" she asked loudly through the glass.

"The creature knocked him into the wall in the dome room and I teleported him in there," John answered as another round of pounding and shouting reached their ears. Touching her, John teleported them away just as the two men ran past followed by the creature with the female in the rear crying, "Stay still will you!" as she aimed several shots their way.

John and Helen reappeared as a loud squawk was heard, followed by a firm thump and the female's cry of "Oops!"

"Oh, dear Lord! Is Will all right?" Helen called and ran off after them.

"Sure, if you consider being stunned out cold by a colleague alright," a male's voice sarcastically answered.

"It was an accident!" a female argued, then shrieked as the creature turned to charge at her.

John slapped his hands on his hips in frustration and shook his head at James. "I am surrounded by idiots."

"I can see that," James laughed. He should be alarmed and frightened by all this but really, the whole thing was a comical farce.

At the call of his name by Helen, John ran off around the corner to join the group. Unable to see what was happening, Watson stretched his neck and listened to the sounds of more yells, odd gun fire and running feet. A few minutes later he heard a very loud crash and a quick volley of gun fire before things seemed to settle down. Guessing that the beastie was finally captured, he leaned back and relaxed as he waited for their return. Things were just starting to get interesting, he thought.

Meanwhile, while all this excitement was taking place in the lower levels of the Sanctuary, the upper floors were just as chaotic.

The blonde had arrived into a long, unknown, dark carpeted corridor. Uncertain where she was, the woman stood stock still in the center and swiveled her head back and forth as she tried to determine which direction to go. The shimmering circle that she had stepped through had disappeared once she had gotten to the other side. "Where am I?" she muttered to herself. "Really, Helen, do you ever look before you leap?" she chastised herself as her hands clutched nervously at the folds of her full skirt.

The sound of crying reached her ears. Turning in that direction, she slowly and carefully walked along the corridor as she took in her surroundings. The place was nicely furnished and, judging by the length of the corridor, was enormous. Numerous heavy, wooden doors were closed on either side as she walked forward.

Another voice reached her ears. A woman's voice. A young woman's voice which seemed to be in distress. She picked up her pace and moved faster along the corridor, finally coming to a halt just outside an open door at the end of the hallway. The high pitched cries of a baby mixed with that of a female's as she tried to calm the upset infant.

Stepping through the doorway, she found herself in a very luxurious, strangely decorated nursery. A tall, thin woman stood before a window facing outward as she cradled a crying infant in her arms.

"Come on, munchkin, take your bottle like a good little girl," the woman pleaded with the baby. "You know you're hungry."

Bothered by the child's distressing cries, the intruder called out softly "Hello" to alert the other woman of her presence.

"Oh, thank God!" the girl exclaimed as she continued to try to coax the baby into taking the bottle. "It's about time you came for her. She's being really fussy and refuses to take her bottle." The girl gave a loud sigh and her shoulders slumped as the baby let out an ear piercing shriek and bawled louder. "Looks like you're going to have to do it the old fashioned way," she said as she turned to the woman in the doorway.

"Woah!" Ashley exclaimed as she took in the sight of her mother in a large, late Victorian gown. "Where's the costume party and why wasn't I invited? What am I? Cinderella stuck at home with the baby while you and dad party the night way at a ball?"

"I beg your pardon?" the blonde replied in confusion as she stared at the pair. The blonde headed girl could be no older than 26 to 28 years of age. The crying child in her arms under a year old. For some odd, nagging reason Helen felt like she should know them.

"Never mind," the girl muttered. "Here, just take her," she said as she walked over to hand the baby to the newcomer. "She's refusing any of my attempts with the bottle. You're just going to have to nurse her whether you like it or not."

Helen's head snapped back in shock as the child was shoved into her arms. "Nurse her?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. You're trying to wean her but the little terror doesn't seem to want to be weaned. You're her mother. You wean her."

"Wean her? Her mother?" the blonde gasped in shock. She looked down at the baby who was still fussing and jumped as the child tried to reach inside her top for her breast. "You must have me mistaken for someone else," she gasped and looked back up at the girl in alarm.

"Uh, you're Helen Magnus, are you not?" the girl quipped sarcastically as she peered at her intently.

"I am Helen Magnus," Helen replied primly as she shifted the squirming child onto her other shoulder.

"Hey, you play you pay," the girl smartly said as she pointed to the child. "The little shrieking siren here is the result. So can you just feed her already and get her to stop crying. Dad's going to have a fit if he hears how upset she is."

"What?" Helen asked, not understanding at all what was going on. The child had stopped crying, now only whimpering and once again tried to shove her fat little hand inside the adult's top, which Helen dodge by twisting her upper body. The child let out another frustrated whimper.

The girl grinned at her. "So, this is what you looked like as a blonde, huh? Dad did say you were lovely as a blonde. Course, dad thinks you look striking in everything. He's a little nutso that way."

"Dad?" Helen repeated as she bounced the whimpering child on her waist in an attempt to soothe it.

"Yeah, dad," the girl repeated back to her. "You know, tall, dark and brooding. Likes to stare at you like a lovesick puppy and brings you white roses while professing his love in lines of old poetry. Basically daft as an old English bat," she smirked.

Helen's eyes widened in shock as the name "John?" slipped out of her lips.

"That would be dad," the girl said. "Or Mr. old grumpy-pants as I like to call him."

"Montague John Druitt is your father?" Helen questioned as she felt her legs start to shake.

"Uh yeah," the girl confirmed with a frown on her face as she noticed her mother's reaction. "Mom, are you alright? Do you need to sit down?"

"Yes," came the answer as the shaken woman moved to sit down in the nearby rocking chair. A moment later her head whipped up in surprise. "Did you just call me mom?"

"Uh yeah," the girl nodded as she gave the pale woman a weird look. "You're Helen Magnus. Mother to me," she said as she pointed to herself, "Ashley Magnus," and then pointed to the baby who was again starting to cry, "and Amelia Druitt-Magnus." At her mother's face paling even more, Ashley dropped to her knees before her. "Mom, are you alright?" she asked again.

"You're my daughter?" Helen repeated with a deer in the headlights look as her hand reached out to touch Ashley's cheek. Her deep blue eyes stared in astonishment at the lighter blue pair staring back at her in concern. "I finally had you?" she whispered as a soft smile turned up at the corners of her mouth.


	2. My Two Moms

The Mirror Cracked

Chapter 2: My Two Moms

Growing bored with his surroundings Watson managed to ease himself off the bed and slowly limped over to press himself against the glass wall in an attempt to see out into the large, outer room. He couldn't make out much except that many of the walls seemed to be made of a thick, smooth stone. The lighting seemed to be similar to that of the room he was in. With his hands pressed up against the glass he slowly moved to his left in search of an exit. There was no traditional door to speak of but in the middle of the glass was a square of metal edgings that suggested a type of doorway. Sliding his hands all over that area of glass Watson frowned as he could locate no type of handle or opening mechanism. A shiny metal box on the nearby stone wall caught Watson's eye. Limping closer, he observed buttons with numbers on them arranged in three rows and three columns.

His fingers had almost touched the keypad when to his right he heard a low swooshing noise and turned to discover Helen quickly striding through an opening in the glass wall that wasn't there earlier. A section of the glass wall had slid to the right to make way for the opening. Helen's face was flush from all the earlier exertion and her hair was a bit disarrayed around her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked with annoyance evident in her voice. "Get back on the examination table so I can look that shoulder," she demanded and then looked worried as she noticed he was standing with all of his weight on his right leg while the left was raised. "Did you hurt your leg as well?"

"Guilty," he said as he carefully pivoted around to face her and used the wall to brace himself. Staring at her, he was amazed to realize that she looked no older than the last time he had seen her. That fact shouldn't have surprised him given what he knew about the gift she received after taking The Source Blood but nevertheless it still did. The tight fit of her sleek, black clothing accentuated her curvy figure and his eyes zeroed in on its attractive feminine shape as he looked her up and down.

"James," Helen called his name again after he merely stood still staring at her as if he hadn't her in years.

Blinking, he gave her a small smile. "I beg your pardon. What did you say?" he asked, a bit embarrassed at being caught staring at her so intimately.

Amused at his reaction to her, the left corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile. "I said get back onto the bed right this minute so I can examine you." Walking up to him, she put her arm under his and around to his back to help support him. As they made their way back to the white sheeted bed, Watson heard another swooshing noise and turned to look over his shoulder as the moveable section of the glass wall slid back into place.

Retaking his place on the bed, he watched as she opened a drawer and pulled out a small, slim device that was shaped similar to the communication device he had destroyed ten years ago at her insistence. Perking up as she came back to stand by him, Watson watched mesmerized as she moved the device along his left foot.

"I think your foot is just sprained. There are no broken bones as far as I can tell but let's remove your boot to make sure." Proved right when the boot was taken off, she turned her focus upward.

Putting the device down on the bed, she helped him remove his coat, careful to avoid jarring the left side. James's silence as he watched her work was a bit odd but then the whole evening had been somewhat odd. She and her team had just spent the last thirty minutes chasing and being chased by a giant, hairy relative of an armadillo as they tried to move it into its crate to later be shipped to its new habitat.

Feeling expertly along his shoulder Helen could feel the joint and socket out of place and wasn't surprised when he cried out in pain. "Oh dear," she said, leaning over to pick up her device and run it along his shoulder. "It appears that your shoulder is dislocated. We're going to have to pop it back into place."

"That sounds painful," he said with a curl of his lip as he clutched his shoulder to him.

"It is but it's not like you haven't done with this before," she answered. "John can pop it back in again and I'll give you something to help deal with the pain."

"John! Why John?" he asked as his voice rose in panic. The idea of John Druitt snapping his bones and joints together was horrifying.

"Because the last time I did it you grumbled for days about it taking me two tries to get the shoulder back in place. John's strong enough to get it back in place with one try."

"I did?" James questioned, looking at her dubiously.

"You did," she confirmed, raising an eyebrow at him in surprise.

"Oh," he muttered, looking away from her and glancing about the room as if looking for an escape route.

Crossing her arms, Helen quipped, "John should be here shortly. Meanwhile, how about telling me why you're dressed up in period costume? I expect the staff at Alfredo's didn't have a clue what to make of your ancient get up," she teased as one of her hands reached out and played with his silk cravat.

"I wouldn't say ancient," he defended, feeling a bit embarrassed that his clothing was out of fashion. The wealthiest of The Five, James had always maintained a fashionable wardrobe save for those times when he went undercover.

"I haven't seen you in a frilled shirt like this in over a century," she returned. "Why in the world would you dress like this for your date tonight?"

"I didn't know I was going out on a date tonight," he confessed as he steeled himself to break the news to her. "I had only returned from a frustrating meeting with Lestrade when I saw you disappear into the shimmering circle."

Frowning, Helen stared at him as if he had two heads. "Lestrade? He's been dead for decades. And what do you mean you saw me disappear into a shimmering circle?"

Staring into her deep blue eyes, James explained. "Lestrade is still very much alive where I come from. And the shimmering circle I saw you disappear into was exactly like the one you went through ten years ago."

Helen's mouth dropped open. "Ten years ago?" Leaning in closer she whispered, "James?"

"Hello, Helen. It's been a while since we last met," Watson greeted, slightly bowing his head to her. "I never thought I would see you like this again… or at least not for a very, very long time."

"If this is a joke it's not funny, James Watson," she glared as she crossed her arms again. "You know very well we agreed not to speak of that incident in case anyone other than members of The Five was in within hearing range."

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" he retorted unhappily.

"You're serious?" she gasped, just as the glass door opened with a swooshing sound and Druitt swaggered in.

"Well, your latest pet is now happily munching away on its dinner. I could use a bite myself," he mused as he joined them by the bed. "And how is the good doctor doing?" he asked as he looked at Watson and took in his outfit. "Wow, you go all out for a costume party don't you, old boy? Even your sideburns look authentic," he joked as he reached out and pulled on the hair on the right side of Watson's face.

"Ow!" James yelped and swatted at Druitt's hand. "Was that really necessary?" he complained as he rubbed his upper cheek and glared back at the tall man.

"What did you do? Use superglue?" John laughed, amused at James's indignation. "That stuff will ruin that rosy English completion of yours."

"I don't think it's glued," Helen interrupted, paling as the realization of what was going on started to sink in.

"Don't tell me Tesla's talked you into trying some new concoction of his that grows sideburns," John said. "He's already turned that one creature into a pear-shaped, furry vampire hybrid." He pointed at Watson. "If you turn into a vampire, you make sure you keep your new fangs to yourself. No nibbling on me or the rest of the household," John ordered.

At seeing Watson's confusion, Helen gently ordered, "James, I want you to tell me exactly how you got here. Start from the beginning."

As the injured man recounted the events that led to him being in Helen's sanctuary, John raised an eyebrow at her with an incredulous look on his broad face. Once Watson stopped talking, Druitt motioned to him with his hand and said, "Did he strike his head? He's talking crazy. Did you check for lumps or bruising?"

"Look who's talking about being crazy," James sniped back. It was bad enough he was in agony from his injuries. Having the likes of Druitt imply he was off his rocker on top of that was too much.

"I think he's telling the truth," she quietly assessed, causing John to start in surprise. "In which case, it means that the continuum device has somehow been reactivated… or someone else has constructed and activated another one."

A high pitched crackle caused the trio to jump unexpectedly. "Dad?" a woman's tinny voice called out. "Hello? Dad?"

Pulling out his slim walkie talkie, John pushed down on the button to speak. "Ashley? Why are you whispering?"

"Oh good, you're there," her relieved voice stated. "You need to get up here now. We have a situation," she said in a sing-songy voice.

"What type of situation?" he asked. "Is Amelia alright?" The muffled cries in the background answered that question.

"She's not a happy camper, as anyone within a fifty mile radius can hear."

John and Helen shared a look while Watson looked back and forth between them. "Did she say, 'dad?'" he asked as he gave the pair a shrewd look.

"We'll be up in a minute," John answered. "Just give Amelia her bottle until we get there."

"I've been trying to give her royal highness her bottle," Ashley hissed. "She won't take it. That's part of the problem."

Helen rolled her eyes as John continued, "Try again. And what's the other part of the problem?"

"That would be mom," Ashley sniped back, not at all happy about being blown off by her dad.

Looking at Helen, whose eyebrows were raised in question, John asked, "What about your mother?" and looked over at Watson as he gasped aloud at the knowledge that the girl on the other side of the device was Helen and John's daughter.

"You finally had her?" he whispered aloud to the brunette who sheepishly shrugged and nodded.

"Is that Uncle James? I thought he was out on the town with his girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Watson repeated, wagging his eyebrow at Helen.

Ignoring them, Druitt repeated, "What about your mother?"

Looking back into the nursery at the blonde-headed version of her mother who was still trying to convince the unhappy baby to take her unwanted bottle of milk, Ashley whispered, "She's acting really strange. Like she doesn't know where she is or who Amelia and I are. You need to get up here now. She's acting a little wack-a-doodle," Ashley sang again with a higher pitched tone. "Maybe she hit her head when she put on that Victorian ball gown?"

"She's in Victorian dress?" John questioned in alarm, mirroring the look on Helen's face. "She wouldn't happen to have blonde hair, would she?"

At the girl's confirmation, Watson sighed in relief. "At least I know she's okay," he muttered, and received a sympathetic look from her older counterpart.

"Yeah, although it's nowhere near as long as it was in that locket photo you carry around," his daughter quipped. "I sure hope it's a wig because frankly mom looks better with darker hair. Her eyes stand out better," Ashley prattled on then quickly hissed, "Oh, gotta go. Get up here, _now_!" she demanded before the transmission cut off.

Pocketing the device, John nodded to the man on the bed and said, "Looks like he's telling the truth."

"Who would make up such an insane story?" James mocked and cringed as sharp pain hit him.

"Right, we need to get upstairs," Helen said anxiously. "But first, you need to pop James' shoulder back into place. It's dislocated."

"Again? You're getting clumsy in your old age, old boy."

"I'm not _that_ old," James reminded him as he tried not to shrink back from the larger man who was reaching for his shoulder.

"Relax," John tried to soothe his terrified friend. "It'll only hurt for a short bit. Then Helen will douse you with morphine or some other type of strong painkiller."

"That makes me feel so much better," James complained and then cried out in pure agony as John put Watson's shoulder back in order.

Slumping back onto the bed, James roared "Bloody Hell" as tears filled his eyes and he rolled in pain and clutched at his shoulder.

"This will help," Helen promised as she uncapped the needle and quickly administered the painkiller.

"It's not helping," James whined as he panted and closed his eyes.

"You'll be fine," John assured. "Meanwhile," he prompted, pointing upward as he looked at Helen, who nodded, and then reached out to touch her. With a flare of bright red, the duo disappeared from the room.

"Still not feeling any better," Watson grumbled with gritted teeth as he continued to nurse his shoulder.

Seconds later, the dark duo reappeared inside the nursery, startling the current occupants.

"Oh good, you're here…" Ashley started, her voice trailing off at the sight of her mother standing next to her father. "Mom?" she asked in confusion, before quickly turned back to the blonde headed version of her mother who had stood in alarm at Druitt's arrival. "Okay, if you're my mom," Ashley began, pointing at the darker headed version, "then who the hell is that?" she pointed in apprehension at the other woman who was holding her little sister.

"Your mother," John replied as he beheld the lovely girl he had fallen in love with and had lost over a century ago.

"How can they both be mom?" Ashley questioned, about to reach for her whimpering sibling when the darker version stepped forward with her arms held out. "I'll take Amelia now," she said calmly and authoritatively. The two versions stared at one another, sizing the other up. The clothing that the darker version wore was even more fascinating than that of the girl, the blonde briefly thought.

Just as apprehensively, the equally confused blonde slowly handed the squirming child over to her mother. "What's happening?" she asked as she watched the darker version of herself sit down in the rocker and try to soothe the babe.

"It seems that you and James walked through a time portal and arrived here in the future to my sanctuary," Helen explained as she stared down at her baby, whose tear stained, very red face bespoke of the child's miserable state. "No luck whatsoever with the bottle, huh?" she asked her older daughter, who had moved closer to her father's side.

"None," Ashley answered, quickly adding, "What do you mean she and James walked through a time portal?"

Helen sighed. "It's a long story, which I will fill you both in on as soon as I get your sister fed." With that, she began unbuttoning her blouse, looking up as the blonde gasped, "What are you doing? He's in the room," she fussed, looking at Druitt.

"I am the father," John boasted. "Besides, it's not like I haven't seen you undressed before," he pointed out smugly as the blonde narrowed her eyes at him.

"Okay, ew!" Ashley exclaimed. "There are innocent children in the room," she complained and gave her father a disgruntled look.

"One of them more immature than the other," he retorted back. "Don't tell me you don't know where babies come from?"

Indicating herself, Ashley came back with, "Well this little girl was conceived by immaculate conception. That's my story and I'm sticking to it," she smirked back at her frowning father.

"I must have missed the angel wings and halo," he muttered back as he returned his focus on Helen and their baby.

Helen sighed again as she pushed her shirt and bra aside and lifted the baby towards her nipple. "If you two are going to keep this noise up you can take it outside. I already have one whiny child on my hands." Amelia's whimpering stopped as she latched onto the offered nipple and greedily began to suck, making loud smacking sounds as she fed. "Can you hand me that pillow?" Helen asked her younger version as she motioned toward the large u-shaped pillow.

The blonde nodded, quickly handing her the pillow and standing back to watch in fascination as the brunette slipped the Boppy underneath the baby for additional support. The child's other hand tried to slip into her mother's blouse to grab a hold of Helen's other breast and was intercepted by her mother, who slipped her finger into the child's grasp as a distraction. "All this fuss just because you don't want to be weaned," she gently admonished the baby. At the sound of her voice, Amelia blinked her wet eyelashes at her mother and tugged on her finger. "Whatever am I going to do with you, young lady?" Helen softly crooned as her other free hand gently stroked the curve of her baby's cheek. Amelia responded by nuzzling closer to her mother and sleepily fluttering her eyes open and closed.

Enraptured by the scene before him, John moved toward mother and child only to have the younger, blonde version of Helen Magnus move before them to block his path. "Stay back," she demanded with a huff.


	3. The Past Meets the Future

The Mirror Cracked

Chapter 3: The Past Meets the Future

A good twenty minutes had passed and the pain killer was in full effect. His shoulder pain had been dulled mostly and he was feeling far perkier than an hour ago. His interest in the ceiling, its lighting fixtures and the room's stone walls had long since waned and his mind was threatening to succumb to stagnation. Bored, his eyes landed on the keypad on the wall and the corner of his mouth turned up in a mischievous smirk. An expert at picking locks, James reveled in the challenge of breaking in - or in this case out - of his confinement.

Carefully easing himself upright and then off the bed, the sleuth slowly limped his way over to the keypad and stared at it from different angles as he observed how the light played on its surface. As his toolkit was back at home, he would have to improvise. Limping over to the nearby cabinets and drawers, he began a systematic search of their contents, grinning when he finally located a suitable substance, a brush and a tissue. Items in hand, he moved back to the keypad, lightly dusting the white powder onto the surface before once again examining the metal surface from different angles. Four of the numbers could faintly be seen having the most obvious thumb prints on them. So, he was dealing with a four number password. Hmmm, what to try first he thought. What order out of these four digits was Helen most likely to employ?

His fingers were on the keypad for his first attempt, which he assumed would be limited to a small number of tries before the system locked up or set off an alarm, when he noticed the smallest of the men he had seen earlier come around the corner. James hurriedly pressed himself against the glass and banged, making a point of keeping his sprained left foot raised to gain sympathy of the passing man.

The young man halted outside and raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing in there?" he asked.

Pointing to his foot and then his shoulder, which he pressed up against himself, Watson yelled, "Your beastie knocked me down. A little help, if you please?"

The glass door gave its now familiar swooshing sound as it slid aside and the young man stepped through to meet Watson. "So you're the one that got knocked down earlier during our game of chasing follies? I thought you were painting the town red tonight with that lovely date of yours," Will greeted.

"I have received that comment a lot tonight," James congenially answered as he scrutinized the young man.

Will was also sizing up the other man. "Did you receive a lot of comments about your get up too? Because it's quite a time warp, if you don't mind my saying."

"Helen and John did share their opinions of my clothing while I was being patched up for the dislocated shoulder and sprained foot," Watson admitted as he glanced down at himself. "I do not think the 'get up,' as you refer to it, is so unattractive. Everything was tailored to the height of the current fashion."

"Maybe in 1910," Will retorted, "but then you would know that better than I."

"Indeed," James replied. "I don't suppose it would be an imposition to get some help moving to a more comfortable setting," he said as he indicated the sterile room with one hand. "My current location is rather tiresome and I wouldn't mind a spot of tea… or a scone. I'm a bit peckish," he suggested hopefully and flashed the boy his most charming smile.

"Sure," Will agreed as he glanced around the white, undecorated room. "Tea and scones are definitely not something one will find in an examining room of Magnus's. But it's close to dinner time. How about we move to the library and you can rest up there until dinner's served? Or would you prefer to rest in your bedroom?"

Tucking that little tidbit away, Watson chose the library. "Would it be too much of an imposition to ask for a little assistance?"

"Not at all but let's do it the easy way" Will recommended. "The last time you dislocated your shoulder and we had to move you manually you were not a happy camper. I'll be right back." He left the room then, causing James to frown and limp quickly out the door before it could slide shut again. The boy was the third person tonight to mention his habit of dislocating his shoulder. Perhaps Druitt was right about Watson being clumsy in his "old" age.

Hearing a soft whirling sound, James turned to his left to find the boy pushing a black, two wheeled chair towards him. Presenting the chair, Will said, "Your chariot awaits, good sir," and helped the sleuth take his seat.

"Much better than limping. Certainly faster anyway," James assessed as he relaxed against the chair and took in his surroundings as they wheeled down the long hallway. After a few minutes they came to a stop before a pair of metal doors and the boy pushed the top button, which lit up green, of a set of two buttons on the wall. They both then waited for the doors to open. Glancing in the opposite direction, Watson appraised that the opposite hallway seemed to go on just a long. "This place is enormous," he murmured as he recalled the boy's comment about him having a bedroom here. This is where I live James thought wondrously.

"It still amazes me even after all these years," Will confessed. "If Magnus ever requires me to do an in-depth inventory of this place I'm officially retiring," he joked and then pushed the wheelchair into the elevator when the doors opened.

"Smart man," James concurred as his eagle eyes paid attention to the numbered buttons on the metal panel inside on the wall. The boy pushed on button "1," which also lit up, and then they moving upwards judging by the motion Watson was feeling. Closing his eyes, James concentrated on the motion and sounds and thought he could hear that they had passed two levels before the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened once again.

Wheeling the older man out, Will commented, "I hope the Big Guy has dinner ready soon. I'm starving. Chasing our latest inhabitant has caused me to work up quite an appetite."

"Me as well," Watson agreed as his eyes swing back and forth taking in every detail as they moved down the hallway. "I have quite an appetite to be fed," the fascinated man quipped with a little smirk. No need to explain to the boy that his "appetite" was a reference to his mind, which was whirling away a mile a minute recording every sensory tidbit of information he could take in.

Meanwhile, back upstairs…

Enraptured by the scene before him, John moved toward mother and child only to have the younger, blonde version of Helen Magnus move before them to block his path. "Stay back," she demanded with a huff.

Helen looked up at the standoff between her younger self and John, who was scowling his displeasure at being kept at bay from his family. Any response she was about to make was forgotten when Amelia bit down on her nipple, causing the brunette to hunch forward and grimace as she loosened her baby's grip on her. "Be nice," she encouraged the little one. The other three adults in the room assumed she was talking to them.

"It's alright," Ashley interceded, coming up to stand by her father's right side. Waving her hands about in the air, she said, "Dad's not looney tunes any longer."

Not understanding the cultural reference to "looney tunes," the blonde's brow creased heavily and she continued glare at Druitt in a combative stance. Though she had no weapon upon her person she would still protect her older self and the child from the monster that tormented her in her youth.

"She's hardly going to understand the term looney tunes," John dryly said and looked over to his partner for direction.

"Oh, right," Ashley quipped and tried again. "Well, what dad was before, when he was totally crackers, he's no longer that way. He's completely sane now," she tried to reassure the blonde version of her mom.

Young Helen looked at Druitt skeptically. "Complete sane? How is that possible?"

"I exercised my demon, so to speak," John explained, glancing back longingly at Helen with their child. For a better part of the day he had been involved with the capture, transporting and recapture of the latest tenant of the Sanctuary and had not had a chance to spend much time with either of his daughters today. Even though Helen the younger had every reason to fear him, he had to restrain himself from losing his patience and pushing her aside to get to Amelia.

The blonde recognized the impatient look in Druitt's eye and looked at him askance. "How so?"

The nursing mother readjusted the baby in her lap before rejoining the conversation. "That is something that is best left unsaid," Helen interjected, calmly giving her younger self an unruffled look as the blonde rounded on her.

"And why is that?" she demanded. "I, of anyone, have a right to know how John was healed and why he is no longer a danger to anyone."

"I may be free of my prison but I never claimed I wasn't dangerous," John said truthfully, lowering his head to peer down his nose at the blonde. "I am still not someone you want to cross."

"So you have not changed at all," younger Helen rasped back in anger. "You're still killing innocent people without conscience and reason."

"That's not true," Ashley defended her father, looking between her two glowering parents. "Dad only kills now when necessary."

"When necessary? Listen to yourself. There is no reason for your father to kill at all given all the victims he's murdered over the years," young Helen spat angrily.

"When necessary would be times when my family is in danger," John tried to make clear. "They generally involve one of your abnormal pets on the loose. And you shouldn't be pointing the finger at me only for killing. You've done your fair share over the years, my dear."

"I have not!" she cried. "The only person I have killed is Adam Worth and that was an accident. He taunted me to shoot him on the cliff and I certainly did not plan for him to fall to his death."

At the mention of Worth, Druitt snorted and was about to make a snide comment about her poor aim which did not in fact kill Worth when his partner hissed "John!" in a warning tone.

The tension in the room got to Ashley, who looked over at her mother anxiously. "Mom say something. She's got it all wrong." When the blonde gave her a stern look that was so reminiscent of her darker version when she was not please at her daughter's action, Ashley clarified, "I mean my real mom… her," she pointed to the one in the rocking chair. The hurt look that briefly flashed across the blonde's face wasn't lost on the John or the other Helen.

"Technically she's your mother as well… whenever she gets around to finally having you," John said gently and sighed. "Look a lot has happened in the century plus since you have known me. I am not in any way trying to justify what happened back in London during your time. You are entirely justified in your anger towards me…"

"Damn right I am," she scowled.

"But the Druitt you should be directing that at is the one from your time period," he insisted. Motioning to the brunette, he continued, "The Helen from my time period and I have gone through a lot together and have worked out our differences between us."

Amelia picked up on the tension from the raised voices and stopped feed long enough to let out a high pitched shriek, kicking out her feet in agitation. "Okay, that's enough," her mother finally said, glaring at the others in the room as she patted her daughter's back soothingly in order to get the baby to continue to feed. "I am trying to nurse my daughter. If you all want to fight you can take it out in the hallway," she ordered in an authoritative voice that clearly said not to cross her.

Throwing his hands in the air, John exclaimed, "I don't want to fight. I just want to see my child!"

At that moment said child bit down on her mother's nipple harder, resulting in Helen cringing with a loud "Ow!" and declaring, "And with _that_, we're done," as she struggled to stand up.

Taking advantage of the blonde's distraction, John quickly rushed over Helen's side to help her up. "Here, take your daughter," she groused as she handed over the little offender to her father. "You can burp her while I clean up," she said as she reached for a colorful cloth and pulled a wet wipe from its casing on the nearby changing table. She quickly swiped at her chest with one hand to clean herself off while clumsily draping the cloth over John's shoulder with the other, thus allowing him to hoist their daughter over his shoulder to burp her.

The sight of John Druitt vigorously thumping the back of a baby against his shoulder while draped with a bright yellow duck covered cloth and his softly murmuring to baby knocked the wind out of the younger Helen's angered outburst. This was not a sight she thought she would ever see in her lifetime given John's descent into madness.

Seeing her mom putting some cream on herself, Ashley strolled over to her side. "Did the little rugrat bite you again?"

"More than once," Helen grumbled as she put her clothing back in order and buttoned up her shirt.

Shuddering, Ashley said, "And that's a good reason not have a munchkin anytime soon."

"The other good reason being that I am father to a newborn and would not look favorably on being made a grandfather at the same time," John dictated to his eldest child with a squint of one eye.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "You shouldn't have a newborn to begin with. You're an old geezer."

"Your mother is older than me. I'm the young one in this pairing," John retorted and got a dirty look from the mother of his child. "Well, it's true."

"The baby is biting?" younger Helen asked as she watched the banter between father and daughter. The two seemed perfectly comfortable fussing at one another. In fact, they seemed to rather enjoy it. "How old is Amelia?" she asked curiously as she moved to the side to get a better view of the child's cherubic face.

"Eight months," her darker counterpart answered as she turned to face her. "Three of her baby teeth have come in and let's just say our little one gets a bit overexcited as she nurses." Smiling as Amelia let out a gigantic burp, Helen moved next to John and stroked the back of her daughter's downy, golden head. "Whether you like it or not, my love, you are getting weaned… sooner rather than later," she promised and gave a soft chuckle as the baby gave her a wide eyed "What? I don't think so" look in return.

"Oh, yes you are, little one," Helen cooed back as she adjusted the cloth on John's shoulder.

"I think our pet disagrees with that verdict," John began and was rewarded with a loud gagging noise as his daughter threw up onto his shoulder. Scowling, he turned his head fully to observe the mess on his shoulder and running down his back.

"And with that we're now even," Helen sung happily at him as she took their daughter from him arms. He had been all for her continued nursing of the child on the grounds that it was healthier for the baby and had tried to discourage early weaning onto a bottle.

Fed and gas free, Amelia gurgled cheerfully at her mother and grabbed a handful of her mother's dark curls in one fist, tugging happily as her little head swiveled back and forth to stare at the others in the room. Her grey blue eyes focused on her father and she squealed "DA!" as she yanked enthusiastically on her mother's hair.

"I was on your side," John whispered with a frown at the little offender before pulling the soaked cloth off his shoulder and teleporting out of the room to go change his shirt.

Ashley laughed and tickled her sibling, grinning as the baby giggled loudly. "Keep that up and you'll earn the title of my favorite sibling," she teased and tickled Amelia again. "Double points for managing to throw up on the front of dad's shirt."

Shaking her head at her silly oldest child, Helen pried her hair from the baby's tight grasp as Amelia tugged harder. Sweeping her ebony locks back over her shoulder, Helen once again reminded her youngest child to "Be nice."

Amelia responded by scrunching up her face and grunting. Seconds later Ashley was swatting her hand in the air before her face. "Woah, you little stink bomb. A little warning please!"

Both Helens chuckled. Holding the smelly baby away from herself, Helen declared, "Someone certainly needs a diaper change," and turned to go back to the changing table.

"And that's my cue to leave," Ashley quickly said as she took a step toward the door. At her mother's call of "Wait!" the girl's shoulders slumped and she whined, "But mom, I've already changed her diaper two times today. Haven't I been tortured enough?"

Rolling her eyes at the dramatics of her eldest as Helen efficiently began changing Amelia's diaper, she answered back, "That's not what I wanted. As soon as I get your sister cleaned up I need to get to the bottom of what led to our visitors arrivals. Until I can figure out what's going on I want you to keep mum about her," Helen motioned to her younger self, "and James. Keep them both out of sight up here. Tell no one." Her train of thought was interrupted as Amelia began gnawing on the tube of diaper rash cream. "You don't want to eat that, darling," Helen corrected and pulled the end out of the child's mouth.

Scowling, Amelia screeched and fought her for the tube as she kicked her little socked feet up in the air and made it harder for her mother to finish the diaper change. Spying a plush rattle toy nearby, Helen's younger counterpart picked it up and rattled it in front of the child's face. The noise caught Amelia's attention and she release her hold on the tube to reach for the toy, which she then happily thrashed back and forth.

"Quick thinking," Helen thanked the blonde, who nodded but kept her eyes focused on the babbling baby. The child was certainly beautiful and, unable to resist, she reached out and stroked the soft skin of the child's closest arm.

Giving her a wide, three-toothed grin, Amelia squealed, "Ahaa!" at her and thrashed her rattle some more. "Ahaa!"

"That's her way of say 'Momma'," Ashley proudly explained to the newcomer. "She can't pronounce the 'm' sound yet. Apparently 'Da' is easier to say."

The blonde felt a sudden tightening of her throat and blinked several times. The baby had just addressed her as momma. And she _was_ Amelia's momma… eventually. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Ashley, the older of her two children. Two daughters. Who would have imagined? And both fathered by John Druitt of all people.

Strolling through the door, John smoothly assessed, "Ah, perfect timing," as Helen pulled on a new pair of ruffled underwear over the baby's diaper and lifted her up onto her hip.

"Amazing how good your timing is when diaper time rolls around," Ashley accused with her hands on her hips.

"I get plenty of practice in during the wee hours of the morning while you're tucked away in your bed, thank you very much," her father returned as he reached out his hand for Amelia to grab when she squealed "Da!" and held out her little chubby arms to him.

"Now that Amelia's taken care of," Helen told him, "we need to look into our other situation. I've instructed Ashley to keep both of our guests tucked away up here and out of sight of the rest of the household. Can you please bring James up here from the exam room?"

John leaned down to kiss his baby's little fist as she clamped onto his finger and squeezed. "Okay, but you know how he hates to teleport."

"He'll live," Helen retorted then stopped as a look of horror passed over her face.

"What's wrong, mom?" Ashley asked, noticing the sharp change in her mother's expression.

"He needs to live," the brunette gasped breathlessly as she turned to stare at the younger version of herself. "They both need to live!" she cried out in alarm. "If something happens to either of them it would change what happens to James and me. If they die we might…" she trailed off worriedly.

"What?" Ashley yelped in concern.

"Let's not jump to the conclusions," John cautioned the upset ladies. "Both younger James and Helen are currently safe and healthy. We shall just make sure they stay that way and then find a way to send them home in the same condition." Pulling his finger from his daughter's grasp, he announced, "I'll retrieve him now," and disappeared in a flare of red. He reappeared a few seconds later. "He's not there. The room's empty," he declared.

"What? Where could he have gone?" Helen said. "The door is alarmed. He would have to figure out the password."

"This is Sherlock we're talking about," John reminded her. "You know how he loves to break and enter."

"Well we've got to find him!" the blonde Helen ordered. "Now!"

Just then Ashley's walkie talkie went off. Pushing down on the receive button, Henry's voice crackled aloud. "Hey, the Big Guy said dinner will be served in a half hour. Is Druitt and Magnus with you? If so, you might want to tell them to get their little English buns down here to the library if they want their share. It's Mexican food night and you know how fast the Big Guy's carne asada tacos go. He even made his special appetizer of white queso for the chips," Henry gushed with glee as he rubbed his hands together.

"They're with me and we'll be down in a bit," Ashley promised. "And you better make sure to save some of that queso for me! Last time you and Will ate it all before Kate and I got any."

"You snooze you lose," he quipped back. "And I think James will be a bigger threat to you getting your share than either me or Will this time. He's pigging out on his chips and queso like it's the best stuff he's ever eaten."

"James is there?" Helen exclaimed in surprise as John laughed and shook his head. Trust Watson to escape a locked room only to turn up for dinner in another part of the building.

"Yep, and he may just out eat us all," Henry observed in awe as he watched said man scoop up a large helping of the cheesy dip and pop it into his mouth with a big grin. "I gotta go if I'm going to get any," he quickly said and ended the transmission.

"Well I guess we know where old Snoopy Pants is," John snorted, "and by the sounds of Henry's description I think it is safe to say he's doing fine."

"Don't call him that," younger Helen reprimanded him. "He doesn't like that nickname, in case you didn't know."

"I do know. That's why I call him that," John retorted with a smug sneer.

Interrupting before the duo could engage in another argument, the brunette version of Helen said, "We might as well join him in the library now that he's made his presence known to the others." With baby on her hip, she led the way out of the room with the others trailing behind.

As they got into the elevator, Amelia let out a litany of baby babble and swatted her little hands trying to get to the buttons on the wall. She loved pushing the buttons which would light up green.

"You want to push the button?" her amused mother asked and held the baby's right hand near the "1" button and allowed her to push it. Amelia squealed in delight as the button lit up… and then proceeded to bang her hand against a few more buttons before her mother was able to turn them away.

Three more buttons had lit up as the elevator began to move. Ashley groaned. "Great. All the queso is going to be gone by the time we get down now."

"What is queso?" the blonde version of Helen asked as she made a happy face at the baby who giving her a toothy grin over her mother's shoulder.

"Cheese," John and Ashley said simultaneously.

"The Big Guy's cheese dip is heavenly," Ashley added. "Whenever he makes it it's a free for all as everyone tries to get some. You'll love it, assuming there's any left."

"The Big Guy?" the blonde asked as she waved at the baby, who giggled and cried "Ahaa!" at her.

"Oh, you'll love him. He's right up your alley," John answered, to which the mother of his child rolled her eyes at him. "And with Watson already there we'll be lucky if there's chip crumbs left. He loves the sasquatch's queso."

"Sasquatch?" young Helen repeated.

"You'll have to see it to believe it," John answered back as he tickled Amelia, causing her to burst into another round of giggles.

"He is not an 'it'," the older Magnus retorted. At his smug "I beg your pardon" response, she narrowed her eyes at him as she said "You're not forgiven." Then to the blonde she urged, "Don't be alarmed at his appearance. He's really very sweet. He is a very dear, old friend of mine."

"He really is very nice," Ashley assured. "Amelia and I adore him."

With a loud ding, the doors suddenly slid open and the group exited the elevator to make their way to the library. Behind them, the elevator continued it journey downward to the last floor Amelia had pushed the button for earlier.


	4. Double the Trouble

The Mirror Cracked

Chapter 4: Double the Trouble

"Dude, you're not going to have any room for Biggie's carne asada if you don't stop with the chips," Henry advised as he moved the queso out of Watson's reach. "You know those are to die for. Plus the girls are gonna have our heads if we don't save them any of the queso."

"Yeah, I'd rather not have to hear them fuss at us again about that," Will agreed as he scooped up the rest of his cheese dip with a chip and popped it in his mouth. Leaning back in his chair, he continued to eye Watson, who was seated across from him on one of the two loveseats with his sprained foot propped up on an ottoman. "I have to remark again that that is an amazing outfit. It's actually one of yours, isn't it? It's not a costume," Will assessed. "It still boggles my mind that you and Magnus not only lived through all that history but managed to kept so many reminders of those times too."

"We should have a costume party," Henry mumbled through a mouth full of chips. "Count Vlad can go as a big bat with wings."

The other two men laughed. "Speaking of Tesla…" James prompted, leaving his question open ended to hide his ignorance of the vampire's whereabouts or state of being.

Henry carelessly waved a hand in the air. "He's been locked in his lab downstairs for the last three days doing one of his secret experiments. Snarling at anyone that interrupts his _genius_ at work. You know how paranoid he is thanks to his past history with Edison. Everyone's out to steal his work… except maybe Magnus. Anyway, I thought about sneaking in there and moving his tools around and leaving a note saying that Edison's ghost stopped by for a visit but he'd get into a snit and try to zap me. So I put a bit of black pigment on the rim of his microscope. Let's see how he looks like as a raccoon when he comes up for dinner tonight."

Watson choked on his bourbon while Will doubled forward laughing. "No way, you didn't," Will gasped, holding onto his sides to stop the burning sensation from his hard laughter. "Dude, he's going to fry you!"

"Edison's ghost did," Henry repeated with a grin. "And you can't kill a ghost because they're a spectral non-entity."

"Pity we couldn't put a lightning bolt on his forehead too," Will snickered. "Then he could be Harry Potter." That got the two men howling and falling back onto their cushions. Watson, who had no clue who Harry Potter was, focused on dabbing at the spilt liquor on his coat with his white handkerchief.

Footsteps approaching the library door announced the arrival of others. "Ah, there you are," Will greeted as Helen and John entered the room, followed by Ashley. "We were contemplating starting dinner without you we were so hungry…" he trailed off as the fourth adult entered the room.

"What the…?!" Henry spit out his chip as he saw the last figure.

Startled, Will leapt out of his chair. "Okay, either I'm having a waking dream or I'm hallucinating because I'm seeing two Magnuses."

"Then so am I!" Henry cried in alarm as he jumped to his feet. "And is one of them is in a big ball gown with yellow hair?"

"Yep," Will muttered. Both men's heads swiveled back and forth as they stared between the two.

"There's technically four Magnuses in the room," Ashley smartly answered as she amusedly took in their reactions.

"Two," John corrected. "The other two are technically Druitts, despite what their mother put down on their birth certificates." At Ashley's sticking her tongue out at him, he said, "And the youngest one is still the more mature of the two."

Shooting him a brief frown, Helen reminded him, "It's your own fault her last name is not Druitt. A point which we don't want to delve into in polite company," before turned back to look at James, who was comfortably relaxing in his seat with his foot up on the ottoman and enjoying the exchange. She suspected the morphine she'd shot him up with earlier to ease his severe pain from the dislocated shoulder was making him more laid back than normal. Then again, he did have a wicked, playful sense of humor and could just be playing along to observe the others' reactions while learning things he had no business learning.

Will, noticing that Watson had not reacted with the same level of alarm as he and Henry, squinted at the sleuth and said "You're not surprised there are two Magnuses," before turning to look back at the others. "And neither are any of you. Why?"

Helen, coming to a stop before Watson, stared down at him disapprovingly. "You were supposed to wait for us in the examination room not go around exploring the Sanctuary." The baby on her hip gurgled and made a few happy baby chirps as she smiled her two dimples at him.

"This must be little Amelia," James guessed and smiled back at the chubby baby leaning forward toward him. "You went and had another one."

"We did," John proudly boasted as he came to sit down on the other love seat angled 45 degrees from the one Watson sat on. "Beautiful, isn't she?

James nodded as a lump formed in his throat. He had known that John was the love of Helen's life and, despite everything Druitt had done, she had eventually gone back to him… and conceived another child. It was inconceivable to imagine, even in a mind as fertile and creative as his own. He looked at the tall, slender blonde girl standing off to the side of Helen and peering at him curiously. "And you must be Ashley. You look so much like your mother."

The younger version of Helen, who had been standing the furthest away from the group and scanning the room, turned her full attention to the girl at James' comment. "You think so?" she asked as she reached out to lay her palm of her hand against her daughter's cheek. Her daughter. She had a daughter. Two actually. She still couldn't believe her good fortune.

Ashley, hearing the warm tone of her mom's younger self, gave her shy smile. "Dad thinks I favor you too. Amelia favors him more. Well, her eyes away. Thankfully not the rest of her looks," she cracked.

"Thank goodness for that," James agreed. "I've witnessed John in a dress and bonnet and it was not an attractive sight, I can assure you." He gave a mock shudder of horror.

Ashley rounded on her father. "You were a cross dresser?" she asked unable to hide how appalled she was at the idea. "You must have been like the world's most unattractive giant of a female. Was this before you met mom? Oh my God," she gasped, "Were you like one of those fuddy duddy professor types that secretly lead a separate life? I am so going to need therapy after this. Like uber therapy!" she prattled on excitedly as she pictured her father in a dress and bonnet. "Even more than I do after you and mom created the impossible rugrat despite being almost two centuries old!"

"I am only one hundred and sixty-seven," her mother griped. "I still have a few years before being 200, thank you very much." She sat down next to John and shifted the squirming baby onto her lap. Amelia immediately grabbed a hold of her mother's blouse to pull herself up into a standing position to clutch onto the back of the sofa. On wobbly legs, she turned to face the group. One little fat hand now clutched the upper section of each of her parents' arms for support as she stood between them.

"I only wore that dress one time to help his investigation," John returned in annoyance at Watson's bringing up of a memory he wanted to forget. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend. "And you swore you would never bring that up if I helped you."

"So I did," James smirked, highly amused at the embarrassed flush that appeared on John's cheeks. "My error. It was so long ago." He waved a hand in a false gesture of apology.

"It was less than 20 years ago for you," John accused. "Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you, Sherlock." He rolled his eyes at Watson's smirk widening at that comment. James had an amazing mind with a long memory. Accidental slip his foot. The smug twit had done it one purpose. Giving his stunned daughter an apologetic look, he added hurriedly, "It's no big deal. We're English. We have a thing for cross dressing at some point in our lives. There's a reason we excel at the theatre. And your mother cross dressed long before I ever did," he blabbed, earning him a reproachful look from both Helens, which was disconcerting. He paused. Two Helens, while possibly romantic and thrilling as a figment of his sexual fantasies, was not likewise in person. It just meant twice as many frowns and glares pointed his way.

"You went around dressed up as a man?" Ashley asked her mom in confusion. "I thought grandpa called in some favors to get you into Oxford legitimately and you had to deal with rude, sexist men because they knew you were a female and didn't want you there. I just assumed you wore dresses because women weren't allowed to wear pants except maybe to ride a horse."

"I did," both Helens answered at the same time and stared at one another in surprise before both grinning. Blonde Helen continued, "I only dressed up a few times in men's clothing to procure some rare ingredients we needed from the various labs at Oxford. As I was the only female enrolled I could hardly do that in my normal state of dress and not get recognized." She paused thoughtfully. "This was before we took the Source Blood and Nigel developing his invisibility skill."

"Pants and shirts were so much easier to maneuver around in," the older version of Helen agreed. "And we're all getting off the subject with all this nostalgic talk," she reminded the group.

"Which is why there's two of you?" Henry guessed in a strangled tone. For the last several minutes he and Will had been swinging their heads back and forth as they tried to follow the conversation. Both felt as if they were trapped in an oddly mild version of the Twilight Zone. Unconsciously he sang "Do-do-do-do" under his breath, causing Ashley, who overheard him, to laugh.

"You haven't told them," Helen realized and felt like kicking herself as James gave her a superior look. Of course he hadn't told them. That would take the fun out of the adventure for him. And it was an adventure for him. It wasn't as if he had to worry about having to stop a crazy Adam bent on changing the timeline. No, James was here in the Sanctuary safe… well relatively safe if one discounted the sprained foot and dislocated shoulder… and he was getting a firsthand glimpse of the future.

"Told us what?" Will interjected. "What's going on, Magnus?"

"Now what would be the fun in that," James answered and winked at her, startling the blonde version of the doctor. "You gave yourself away, Helen."

"Sometimes I hate you, James Watson," Helen sighed, inwardly groaning that she could have saved herself all the trouble of explaining this mess had she only taken the time to speak to James before allowing her younger self to reveal herself.

He gave her a dimpled grin. "Helen Magnus, you know perfectly well you adore me," he cheekily said. "After all, you made me the godfather of your first born."

"Who told you that?" the older Helen demanded as she turned to glare at Will and Henry. "You know very well you are not supposed to know details like that." By the guilty look on Henry's face and the fact that he stared up and around but not at her answered who the culprit was in leaking that little bit of detail.

"Details, details," James sang out. "The devil is in the details. And you have yet to deny that you adore me," he pointed out.

John, noticing the blonde's surprise at James' flirting, informed her that, "Forgive his boldness. You've dosed him with some heavy pain killers for his foot and shoulder and I would dare say he's feeling being a bit silly at the moment." Leveling a stern look at his drugged up best friend, John added, "Of course, if he keeps flirting with you he might be feeling a whole new level of pain if I have to drop him from the top of this building. Behave, James."

"Again, what would be the fun in that," James repeated. He was not nearly as drugged up as John seemed inclined to believe but he couldn't help egging the old chap on. It had been years since he'd gotten the opportunity to tweak Druitt and he did so enjoy annoying his old college mate.

Young Helen came to sit down on the ottoman near his leg. "James, are you alright? Is the pain severe?" She leaned in close to stare into his eyes to check how dilated they were. His eyes did seem brighter than normal. Maybe he actually was a little high on the medication.

Giving her an affectionate pat on her hand, he replied, "I am quite fine, my dear. Although I could do with some more of this queso concoction. I'm still peckish. And you must try it. It's quite delicious."

"Focus, James," the older version of Helen insisted as she cut off the blonde's response, "We have a serious problem on our hands."

"We sure do," Henry muttered. "We have two Magnuses running around." He became quite flustered as everyone turned to look at him. "Not that that's a bad thing or anything," he stuttered and wrung his hands embarrassedly. "One Dr. Magnus is great. Two could only be better," he lamely complimented and gave the older one a desperate smile.

"Smooth, Einstein," Ashley commented. "Want an apple to polish for the teacher as well?"

Just then, the Big Guy entered the room. "Good, you're all here. Dinner is ready to be served in…" he stopped as he noticed the two couples by the fireplace. His furry head swiveled from the Helen with baby and John to a blond version of Helen with James in period costume. The blonde became wide eyed and lightly gasped as he came near. Watson, who had already seen the creature earlier when he had brought the snacks, patted her hand once again to reassure her.

To the darker version, he gruffly barked, "Magnus, what's going on?" He had seen the brief flash of fear in the blonde's face and it had hurt his feelings. It had been a very long time since he had seen her look that way at him.

Will threw out his arms in frustration. "That's what we'd like to know. Why are there two Magnuses? And what did Watson not tell us?" Will demanded. "And does it have something to do with the fact that he doesn't seem to know about Amelia until just now?"

James raised his glass to him. "He's a clever lad, this one," he complimented Will to Helen. "I see why you've selected him for your team, Helen."

Will tilted his head and stared hard at him. "You made a similar remark when we first met. Why am I feeling like this is the first time we've met… again?"

"Because it is," John said with a soft laugh. "Helen's not the only one with a doppelganger at the moment."

"What?!" Will, Henry and the Sasquatch yelped at the same time.

"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this," Helen assured them, then lost her train of thought as Amelia lost her grip on her mother's arm and pitched forward. John lurched forward to grab her about the waist as Helen cried out their daughter's name. Both breathed a sigh of relief and together leaned their foreheads to touch their baby's. "Careful, my Luv," Helen softly chastised the little one.

Unhappy at being confined by her parents, Amelia screeched some baby babble and squirmed in her father's arm, trying to wiggle down from the couch. Recognizing her need to explore, John carefully allowed her to slide down onto the floor where she promptly fell onto her padded bottom and stared around curiously at everyone. So many things to touch and see at one time. Putting her hands onto the carpeted floor, she lifted her bottom and jerkily started to crawl forward, excited to be able to move around freely. For a moment the adults quietly watched her progress.

"When you say doppelganger you mean like a clone?" Henry asked leerily, "or doppelganger like a Magoi?" As he said this, his mind raced to remember where the nearest gun was in the vicinity. If they were dealing with the Magoi they were in big trouble. He zeroed back in on the baby. They'd have to get her safely out of the way first before any weapons exchange took place.

"Neither," Ashley answered, giving him a pat on the shoulder as she moved past him to sit down in the chair he had vacated. "Relax, dude. It's fine. He's just a younger version of Uncle James and she's a younger version of mom. The only thing we have to worry about is keeping them safe and returning them home." Discovering the queso and chips they'd pulled from Watson's reach, she began munching away and motioned for her mom's younger self to try it. "Go on, you'll like it."

"You will," James agreed, reaching for another chip.

"Come again?" Will asked. "Younger version?"

"He's James at age 49 and she's Helen at 50," John explained, grinning as Helen corrected him with "49. I'm… she's 49."

"It's November and your birthday. She's 50," John reminded her, highly amused at her indignation over her age. "Though why at your age you get fussy about it is beyond me. You're old, woman. Deal with it."

"And you're an eternal pain in my backside," Helen shot back. "And if my age is up for discussion I would appreciate people getting it correct. I've earned every year, thank you very much."

"It's our birthday?" younger Helen asked in surprise. She had relaxed after her initial concern over the tall, furry creature's appearance. No one else in the room seemed overly concerned about him.

"It is," her older counterpart confirmed. "That's why my Old Friend has cooked a large meal in celebration." She gave him a grateful smile of acknowledgement. "I look forward to partaking of it."

"It's going to get cold if we don't eat within the next half hour," her manservant sniffed and wrinkled up his dark nose. "The meat will get tough. And how can she be you if you are you?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"That sounds totally confusing and yet exactly what I was going to ask," Will stated. "And what exactly did Ashley mean by returning them home?"

"What I am about to tell you is not to leave this room. No one outside this room is to know about this… about him or her," she ordered as she indicated the Victorian pair seated opposite of her. "Understand?" she demanded, waiting for Henry, Will and her Old Friend to nod, before launching into her explanation. Reluctantly she shared with them an overview of the situation, leaving out a lot of the finer details. When Will opened his mouth to ask more questions, she pointed at him and said, "You know what you need to know. That is all you need to know. I don't know why it happened but somehow or other the continuum device was reactivated. This shouldn't have happened. I meant to hide the device in a place no one could ever reach but one thing or another occurred after I returned and then Amelia came along and… well, I just forgot about it."

"And now it's been activated. It must have required a huge amount of power to open the portal, even if only briefly," John observed. "Could that power source have taken place outside of the Sanctuary or did it originate here?"

"That's the first thing we need to determine," Helen decided, turning to look at her tech specialist. "Henry, we need to know where the power surges took place and when. We know where and roughly the time when James arrived. The younger me arrive shortly before that. Can you do a security scan?"

"I'm on it," he said, spinning around to rush out of the room.

"What's the second thing we need to determine?" Will asked, having noted the concern in her voice. He had a suspicion of what it was but waited for her to voice it.

"Then we need to determine how many came through the portal," she grimly answered.

"We know how many came through," Ashley said with a frown. "Two. James and you."

"Are we sure it was just them?" Helen softly said. "Or could there have been someone else?"

"Who else would there be?" John asked with a creased brow. "The only ones from that time period that could have crossed over would have been James and Helen and…" his voice trailed off as a horrific idea blossomed in his head.

Across from him, James and younger Helen must have had the same thought as their eyes grew wider and their countenances paled visibly.

"Oh no," Ashley moaned. "No, no, no, no. Not him. Tell me you're not thinking he could be here right now." Her eyes landed on her baby sister, who had crawled up between her chair and the ottoman on which Watson's foot and her mother's younger self rested, and her first impulse was to sweep the helpless baby up into her arms and run for the nearest door. "He can't be here," Ashley whispered. "He can't. He'll kill us all if given the chance."


End file.
